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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541751">cowboy like me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNerdPrincess/pseuds/TheNerdPrincess'>TheNerdPrincess</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Criminal Minds (US TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(not in a weird way but just a loves/works with/is good with horses way), Alternate Universe, And cheesy romance novels, Cowboy AU, Cowboys &amp; Cowgirls, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, I have experience with horses but it's about 5 years outdated so forgive any small indiscresions, I tried to include everyone in the town in some way, Inspired by Hallmark Movies, basically a whole fic based off that scene where spencer tells jj he wanted to be a cowboy, basically don't expect anything too deep, horse girl reader, ranch au, small town AU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 22:55:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,071</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28541751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheNerdPrincess/pseuds/TheNerdPrincess</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Doctor Spencer Reid was a renown professor in Washington DC until his mother passed away and he came home to Grandridge, Nevada to settle her estate. This includes her cattle ranch, Serenity Ranch. Despite Spencer's determination to wrap up his mother’s estate and return to the city, there’s something about the small town and its colorful cast of inhabitants.</p><p>For some, Grandridge is home to generations of family. For you, it's an escape, and Diana Reid is the local ranch owner who took you in without a second thought. All the years you worked for her, you never met her son, and it's only after she passes away that Doctor Spencer Reid deigns to visit. You can't imagine ever liking the man who's trying to get rid of the only home you've ever known. Love? Forget it.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Penelope Garcia/Emily Prentiss, Spencer Reid/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>cowboy like me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>You pressed your heels into the sides of your horse, urging the frisky mare over the last hill that blocked your view of town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite its name, Grandridge, Nevada, never had any delusions of greatness. You could pretty much see the whole thing laid out in front of you, clear in the morning sun. But that’s okay, because this one-post-office town was home to you and 337 others who loved the endless desert sky and quiet life. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath of fresh air, you could already feel the sun warming your back and the hint of warmth that would soon overtake you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What say we hurry home, girl?” you murmured to your mount, patting her neck. She tossed her head, jingling the bridle in anticipation. You shook your head with a smile and loosened the reins slightly, relaxing back into the saddle. With a small squeeze and a click of your tongue you were off in a fast canter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The wind caught the ends of your hair, playing and pulling at it while you guided the mare towards the biggest building on this end of town. If you closed your eyes for a moment and matched her stride with the movement of your body, it almost felt like you were flying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t matter that you had been riding horses since you were old enough to hang on, or that this was technically your job, there was an indescribable joy to letting loose a little with your horse. Her energetic stride and perked ears let you know that she was enjoying this as much as you were.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Far too soon you were slowing to a trot. Outside the stable you stopped next to a hitching post, easily dismounting. The mare began pulling towards a bright blue bucket, and you good-naturedly tugged her back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing in there, Ezzie,” you laughed, quickly trading her bridle for a halter before she could redouble her efforts towards the bucket. The bridle bumped against your side from its place hung over your shoulder while you hitched Ezzie to the post and slid her saddle off. Tucking the sweaty girth over the top of the saddle, you carried it into the cool, sweet shade of the stable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your footsteps were greeted with excited whinnies from multiple directions as velvet noses poked out of stalls and wide brown eyes followed your movements.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys already ate,” you exclaimed to your equine audience with a chuckle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The smile on your face died as the crunch of tires on gravel reached your ears. You frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They weren’t supposed to be here yet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You made a quick stop by the tack room to drop off the saddle and bridle, promising yourself you’d wipe them down later, and stepped out the opposite end of the stable.  Partially obscured in the shadow of the building you watched two figures stepping out of a truck too shiny to have ever driven anywhere except a rental parking lot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One figure was short and stout, and you recognized her instantly. Shelby Barker, the “too-smiley, too-nice lawyer”, according to Diana. You had met her a few times when she had come to see Diana about this or that. The other figure, tall and slim, you knew only from photos in the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Doctor Spencer Reid.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You squared your shoulders and tried not to let your scowl be </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> obvious. One deep breath later, you were marching across the yard, small puffs of gravel dust floating behind you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y/N!” Shelby exclaimed with a smile so big it looked uncomfortable on her round face. She waved. “How are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi, Ms. Barker,” you replied, notably less enthused. “I’ve got a horse hitched out back I need to groom and turn out, but I heard you come in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not a problem, dearie, not a problem at all,” she went to pat your arm then hesitated, electing to nod instead. You barely restrained rolling your eyes at her.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>God forbid she gets a little dirty.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span> “We’ll just head into the house,” she rambled on. “I’m glad to see you’re keeping things around here running smoothly.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You tuned her out halfway through the first word. You knew from past experience that, despite being a semi-competent estate lawyer, Shelby would talk until she ran out of air and nothing she said was important. Instead, you turned your attention to the man behind her. His hands were shoved into his pockets, and he was dressed in dark slacks and a black vest over a deep purple dress shirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s going to roast out here in about an hour if he doesn’t stay inside,</span>
  </em>
  <span> you thought. His brown hair was just as unruly as in each of the photos Diana had proudly displayed on every surface in her home. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had talked about her son at every opportunity. A prominent professor in Washington DC, he frequently flew her out to see him at some conference or another that he was lecturing at. A few times she had invited you along with a twinkle in her eye, probably hoping to set her son up with the loyal ranch hand, but you had declined every time. You weren’t sure if you could hide your disdain of him if put face to face with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What sort of son doesn’t come home to visit even once? She said he hasn’t been back to Greatridge since he left for boarding school when he was nine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You had often caught Diana studying a photo of Spencer with a faraway, mournful sort of look. Knowing that the man before you had caused her any sort of sadness made you want to lash out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Instead, you interrupted Shelby with a tight smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I gotta get back to work,” you said. “There’s lemonade in the fridge, help yourselves.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, you turned on your heel and stalked back towards the stable. Your chest tightened, anger cutting into your heart and bringing tears to your eyes. You welcomed it. If you were angry then there was no room to be sad. No room to cry over the death of the woman who had taken you in when you were lost and cared for you like her own child. No room to mourn. Just anger, anger at the injustice of the world and at Shelby Barker and her stupid smile and at Doctor Spencer Reid, the prodigal son returned home too late.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey everyone! This is a super rough, un-betaed idea I had after watching the scene in Season 15 where Spencer talks about wanting to be a cowboy. I just kinda threw together the first chapter, I don't have an update schedule for this or anything, but I would like to continue it if anyone likes it, so let me know! (It's also my first shot at reader insert so I hope it's okay!)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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